April 7: Yesterday afternoon I began organizing travel arrangements for my trip to Europe this summer. I’m going back to revisit some of the highlights I saw in 2015, and to explore new adventures.
The trip in 2015 seemed like the realization of aspirations I had held for a very long time. My previous trip to France was in 2003 – 12 years earlier – and it seemed aeons in the past. I characterized the 2015 trip as a “reward” for reaching the ripe old age of 65 and beginning my retirement years. I had thought about it for so long, and imagined how spectacular it might be, that I felt entitled to go. Somehow I had waited long enough and “deserved” it.
This year the trip feels a little self-absorbed. I’m very aware of the issues I’m leaving behind. My Mum has early Alzheimer’s and her condition can only get worse. At 94 years of age, any number of medical issues could arise without warning and I’m effectively leaving my sister Nancy to sort it all out. She is a Nurse and a real rock in my life, so I have absolute confidence in her ability to deal with whatever might happen, but it feels like I am abdicating my responsibility to her and my Mother for an extended time.
My daughter Marisa is expecting a son in early August, just before my intended return date. I was away in 2015 until just before she had the girls. My feeling is that there is not much I can do to help her, beyond figurative hand-holding and being present (which, of course, I won’t be…). She is practical and strong-willed and confident, so she too will deal with whatever happens, but I feel that it is somehow inappropriate for me to be away as this wonderful event in her life unfolds.
I’m also aware of the potential of messing up in Europe and becoming a problem for others to solve, and given that I am spending almost 2 months on a motorcycle, some would assert that the likelihood of that happening is higher than average. Still, I feel confident in my ability to ride safely, and I’m comfortable with the risks that the trip involves. As Tazio Nuvolari is reputed to have said: “Thousands of people die in their sleep, but it doesn’t stop me from going to bed.”
Ultimately I suppose this is nothing more than a self-absorbed rationalization for doing something that I want to do, at a time when I want to do it. If not now, when? I’m not getting any younger, and given my family history with Alzheimer’s, I may not have long. Whatever the case, it’s absolutely a “first world problem” of the highest order. A problem that I am fortunate to confront.